


sweetest taboo

by bevcrushers (dothraloki)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alcohol, Bars and Pubs, Bisexuality, Drunkenness, M/M, Shore Leave, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-31 18:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20119852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dothraloki/pseuds/bevcrushers
Summary: A pivotal moment in a bar on shore leave.--prompt 5: sound





	sweetest taboo

**Author's Note:**

> i know that 'sound' here is pretty tenuous, but i really just thought about it in regards to the ambience of the bar

It’s twenty-three hundred hours and Harry’s on his fifth drink of the night.

The bar is quaint, decorated out in a kind of tropical theme that makes Harry think of surfing and sea-salt and home. They’re surrounded by the sound of low laughter and the steady clink of glasses that melts around them like white noise. He feels comfortable, so utterly and completely comfortable – blissed out and drunk and just_ this_ side of reckless.

God, Harry loves shore leave.

About forty-five minutes ago Tom had stopped obviously ogling the waiting staff who walk around the tables clutching trays piled high with bright, alien cocktails. Instead, he'd fixed his attention solely on Harry - murmuring stupid inside jokes in his ear, and pulling him onto circular conversation threads that have no bearing on anything important, not really – and it fills Harry with a sense of quiet, self-indulgent satisfaction.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Tom’s pouting again. His shirt collar is rumpled around his neck, and his hair is dishevelled, but his eyes sparkle bright with mischief. And just like that they’re back onto dangerous territory – only this time, Harry’s not sure he has the wherewithal, nor the motivation to deflect it.

“You didn’t ask,” says Harry, easy. “And now you know.”

The air between them has been like this since the third drink - balanced precariously on the edge between good-natured banter, and something more serious, more charged. It always is where alcohol is involved; an undercurrent of anticipation that often leads to nowhere. Harry pretends not to notice it. He’s been getting real good at that lately.

“Yeah, _now_ I know. It’s only been two years, Harry,” says Tom. “Naturally I have, like, a million questions.”

If Harry were sober, he’s sure he would’ve cringed, would’ve retreated into himself like a tortoise inside its shell, sensing incoming danger. Instead he smirks into his glass. “Like what?”

Tom’s elbow knocks into his own as he leans closer. “Have you ever thought about it with any of the guys here on Voyager?”

“Can I plead the seventh guarantee?”

Tom snorts. “Oh, but that’s an answer in and of itself.”

“Not according to the constitution,” Harry points out. “Can I get you another drink?”

“One of those yellow, fruity things,” says Tom, and flashes back a lopsided smirk – the one that reminds Harry of guys back in South Carolina who were all bad news in a way that Harry, regrettably, found so tempting. That should’ve been it though – ordinarily, that would’ve been it – but the drink has gotten to them both and Tom won’t drop it. He pitches forward eagerly in his seat as Harry attempts to flag down barkeep. “So, who? Carey? Hogan? Chakotay?”

“I barely talk to Carey,” Harry can't help but laugh. “Hogan is just a colleague. And Chakotay is – _Chakotay_.”

Blue eyes flash again. “Hot, but unavailable, I get it - oh, _Ensign Kim_, are you blushing?”

He is but he won’t let Tom have the satisfaction. “It’s the booze.”

“I’ll bet,” Tom drawls. “You’re avoiding the question.”

“Because _I don’t want to _answer,” says Harry. “In fact, if you want honesty so badly, why don’t _you _answer the question?”

With that, he feels the undercurrent reach breaking point. Tom lets his gaze drag over him, and Harry feels like he’s been set on fire. “Who have I _thought about_ it with? Harry, I’m not sure you want to know the answer.”

*


End file.
